


Yes, two JTs.

by ControversialShipper



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beardeau is just JT with a beard, Ghosts, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Insert, Selfcest, Tags May Change, more characters will be added, twins? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ControversialShipper/pseuds/ControversialShipper
Summary: Justin Trudeau (now) meets with Justin Trudeau (then).I'm a ghost and only the two JTs can see me.We go on beautiful adventures.I'm the Yandere Dev of this fucking fandom but YanDev's like 38 and I'm 17.
Relationships: Emmanuel Macron/Justin Trudeau, Joe Biden/Justin Trudeau, Justin Trudeau/Justin Trudeau, Justin Trudeau/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Why do you expect a name.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on watching too much phasmophobia.  
> I have * s h i t * grammar and punctuation, enjoy.

I watch this bearded man drink his coffee as he is reading through stuff on his laptop. Man's looking like he hasn't slept for two days; his eyes are red and his hair is long.. but still a mess.

"This old-ass man." I said out loud without any precaution. I missed his 2015-2019 days, the days where he fooled me of thinking he was 25 for like four years until my history teacher shattered my dreams.. _he's **older** than my mother._

"Who was that?" the middle aged man quickly pushed his chair out of his desk and got up, turning his head, looking for where the source of my voice came from.

I sighed, which made him agitated (because he could obviously hear me), and called out, "I'm here old man! Up here, above you!"

The now, 49 years old Prime Minister, turned his head up to the ceiling and then in fear, he collapsed to the ground.

"It's _okay_ ," I hovered down to him, standing on the ground he curled up on. I walked towards him, reading his wide blue eyes _(that were in terror)_ contrasting with his cool toned brown hair. The man looks like he's in the "freeze" part of his "fight-or-flight response". He also looks like he has lost complete faith in what he was seeing, or faith in himself, doubting if he was seeing stuff.

"I'm not a threat and I didn't come for any harm.. I'm just doing my daily stalking.." This was the most honest response I can give him. I hope this will calm the old-ass man now.

He was still breathing in-and-out, boi please like I already said that I came here for stalking you.

"Are you.. are you _real?_ " the boomer asked.

"Me? 'Course I am! How am I talking to you?" I replied to the Gen-X man, which I now realise isn't a boomer.

"This..." he started emphasizing the _"s"_ as if he were a serpent, "— can't be real,"

_"Whatdoyoumean??"_

"I'm.. — I'm definitely hallucinating.. _I —"_

"No you're not," I grabbed his cup of coffee and tried to spill some on him, but he then grabbed the cup and we were now having a tug of war in the middle of his office. I forgot that the man's a boxer when I realised that I was out of reached to pull the coffee back.

He sipped his coffee with mood. Staring into the ground?? I don't know if he was looking at me or through me.

"So, are you like a ghost?"

"Yea,"

I don't know if he was disrespected or disturbed to have such a chill answer from a being like me.. or what I have become. I don't know why for some reason he looked a bit mad at me.

"What brings you here?" the man asked in the tone where he thinks I'm a fucking nuisance in this midst of him doing his work. 

I don't blame him.

"I have been stalking you on Twitter and Instagram for two years and wished to see you in person. I guess now that I am in this form, I guess I have the advantage to just _actually_ see you in person; so far the experience is not great." I replied as I watched his face turn from unnoticably disturbed to sympathetic.

"How old.. _were_ you?"

_"are,"_ I corrected him.

_"were,"_ he again reinstated.

"I am 17 years old. I am alive." I protested back while answering him.

He took a moment and then went with it, saying, "Okay." then sighing.

"You _are_ very young.." he said. I don't know if he said that to me or himself. All I know is that he had put a huge emphasis on "are", as if it were out of place when he was using it in that sentence.He looked as if he feels a deep sympathy for why I am here, that he wanted to tell me that it shouldn't be an "are", but instead be a "were". But it also looked as if he did so tell me, he'd hurt my feelings — so he'd rather not express it.

"What is your name?" he looked at me, studying me, scanning me, all but not in a harshful way.

"Cat"

"Cat?" 

"Ye, my name's Cat."

He sighed a bit as he brought his coffee down to his desk , staring at the papers all around. 

"I might have to bring an exorcist; but I can't with all the measures that are going on now."

A white man in his 40s or 50s, walked to the doorway of the office, asking "Mr. Trudeau, can I come in to drop in these papers?"

_"Don't look at me, remain calm and pretend I am not here. He won't see me"_ I zapped out.

"Yes, you can come in," the Prime Minister replied as he quickly put on a mask and grabbed the papers from the other man. "Happy birthday Mr. Trudeau," the other man said then quickly left and waved bye at the Prime Minister, which the Prime Minister waved back.

_**I'm glad he believed me this time.** _

"Don't take off your mask," I ordered as he was almost going to take it off. 

He first gazed out into the doorway from his position to check if the other man was out of hearing range and asked, "Why?"

" 's because you look good with it."

"Do I?" he asked with the kind of suggestive curiosity as he put a hand on his chest.

"Yes, because that beard looks like a fungus on half of your face! Your face looks mismatched to the point where your mask looks like fucking lingerie on you!"

"A young lady like you shouldn't say that," he replied, looking sexually disturbed, if that's a thing.

"Tell me," I grabbed him by his chin, flailing his mask off his face, pulling it with the fuzzy hairs of his unwashed beard (it was very nonsexual), "Why you look old?"

"What? That's a thing — I'm aging, I'm getting old —"

"No, no, no, I _need_ to know if you are Justin Trudeau,"

He was in a loss of words for a second then saying this, "I — I am Justin Trudeau! What are you saying?!"

"wHaTaReYoUsAyInG?" 

"You're not Justin Trudeau and I know it!"

"What do you mean?"

"You are Justin Trudeau but at the same time, you're not _him_."

" _Him?"_ "

I sighed and I left go of his chin and I sighed as looked to the floor. But then a brilliant idea came to me.

"Hey what are you doing, Cat?" he asked fearfully as I lifted him off the floor. 

"I'm going to somewhere I'd like!" I replied optimistically and opened up a pink sparkly, holographic portal and flew with him through it! :)

Apparently to his surprise, I have travelled back in time, 5 years ago to the same office of his, just in 2015!

I plopped bearded Justin on to the ground as non-bearded Justin watched with awe — what. the. fuck. was. happening.

I casually waved "bye" at the bearded Justin, and I had the literal roblox "chill face" on. 

The Roblox "chill face"

~~(to the reader: seriously tho, search up "roblox chill face" on Google, or else you don't get what I'm saying for the literal **vibes** of the face)~~

I used my ghost powers to turn invisible and turn into a National Geographic photographer, to watch the mating of two wild Justins in their natural habitat.

"Who are you?" the non-bearded Justin asked his bearded counterpart.

"I was going to ask the same question to you,"

"Uhh.. yea, but you _look like_ me,"

"I know,"

"What's your name?"

"I am Justin Pierre James Trudeau, 23th Prime Minister of Canada."

"Well that's the same," said the non-bearded Trudeau. "Can you tell me your age.. even if you are me, you look a bit older than me."

"I just turned 49" Justin replied. "We're at the end of the year 2020.." he said with a bit of sadness.

The non-bearded one jumped up from his seat and walked up to the bearded one, "five years," he said and then continued, "It's the end of 2015 too — just to let you know."

"So I guess she time travelled,"

"Who? You mean that pale blue girl that's now.. nowhere around?" Justin stared looking around to see if I'm anywhere to be spotted, but was unsuccessful. 

"That was Cat, she is a young ghost kid who brought me here in 2015, probably for the sake of my beard. Now I just don't know where she is.."

The younger one knelled down, stroking the beard of the older one, being somewhat dominant. "You look like a depressed dad with that beard."

The other Trudeau responded as he shifted his head away from his younger self, it was like facing something he felt somewhat cringed by with all that *hyperactive* attitude and lucky-go-happy personality. He looked at the younger man and looked more open rather than closed like his older counterpart. The younger one then pushed himself onto the older one, climbing on top of him, face-to face. From that distance, he peered onto the man's face. He looked calm but tired at the same time; he looked like he hasn't slept for two days. The clean shaven man then stole a kiss from the man below him and smiled cheekily.

"Hey — uhh.. — _Justin?_ Actually, what exactly do I call you..?" asked the older man.

"Beardeau" I said as I quickly budded in but then budded out. Both of the Trudeaus turned to the direction where I yelled out abruptly.

" 'Guess you can see her too," the older Trudeau commented as they down sat up on the wooden floor.

The younger Trudeau turned his face back into the older one, "So, Beardeau it is..?"

"Not Beardeau, it sounds so.. cringe.. Let's settle on our real names instead." 

"How? We're both named 'Justin' ."

"As if 'Pierre' and 'James' don't exist,"

"... you have a point — so which one's which?" the non-bearded one asked in the most douchebag tone.

"You sound like a fuckboy.. You'll get 'James', "

_James_ now snickered and replied, "and you look like a dad.. like your beard literally sucked the " _daddy_ " away from me,"

"Hey! Careful with your words! ... So that leaves me with Pierre. Damn, that reminds me of Dad,"

"I know,"

"Okay, and that was completely disgusting — both the kissing and the comment."

"... _I mean —_ " 

James wanted to defend his action, _but it had to be stopped by the goddamn doorknob rattling!_


	2. It's like a mirror.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR!  
> Let's start off 2021 on a good note: Justin Trudeau making love to Justin Trudeau
> 
> WARNING: THERE MIGHT BE NON CON ELEMENTS AND ELEMENTS THAT TRIGGER PEOPLE  
> THIS IS OFFENSIVE CRACK  
> Reader discretion is advised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read the summary, this is an 18+ chapter.

Glad the door rattling had stopped ( _because of me, of course._ ), because now I can get to see the fun part in action! :)

"Hey! can you please get off me?" whined Pierre " _GAHH —_ "

"Hee, hee, you're cute ~" said the younger PM, brushing the hair of the older man under him.

He was surprised that Pierre **did** let him touch his hair; because _Pierre_ is literally him, normally he'd react, and become really picky when it comes to _who_ touches his hair... But maybe it is because _he is him_, just a younger version of _him_ , the 45 year old Prime Minister thought, studying the 49 year old reflection. To him, it was like looking into a mirror of the future, a more older depressed version of him with less colour.

"You're so.. calm.. yet.. different, did anything happen in 2020?"

"A lot of things, James.. even before 2020, a lot of things happened.. ahh ~" Pierre moaned as James bit into his neck, nibbling on to his neck.

James moved down to Pierre's chest, unbuttoning the older man's shirt. Pierre only watched his younger self (by only five years) run his nose on the bare skin of his chest. "You've.. gained some weight..?"

_"So?"_

"I'm not saying that's bad.. it's not really noticeable, to be honest." James sighed and he finally ~~reached the pants~~

He back up, into his bearded counterpart's face. 

"God, _you look ugly_," James sneered as he rose up, back to his original position, facing the other Trudeau. He lightly pressed his lips against the bearded man as the bearded man uncomfortably accepted this kiss. _He_ couldn't really do much of the situation. First, he didn't really have the energy like he once had like his 2015 self, James is just too hyperactive. Second, Pierre is now an empty husk. 

The older PM moaned as James gotten more "moist" with the kissing and even let in a tongue in. He felt the strands of his beard hair rub against the soft skin of the younger PM; the younger one only felt some prickly-ness, scratchy-ness, and fuzzy-ness from his beard tho. 

(okay, I keep laughing at words like "penis", I'm not even mature enough to write smut because I will only either be so embarrassed to write it, or I will laugh too much that I can't. I feel like an insult to all smut writers)

Pierre felt the hard pENiS — " _AH ~ oh god you're hard as well_ ," James let out as he pressed his dick on his older self.

They pressed their dicks on each other's dick, only to have the cloth of their pant to be the barrier for their skin to meet. The two Canadian men were sweating and breathing onto each other, before making the decision to *finally* do it, to have sex. They quickly unbuckled their belts and took off their pants and dress shirts, with only having their dress shoes and socks on.

James sat on his wooden desk, which he now reacted to the ice cold wood on the fucking desk because that cold surface **burns his ass**.

Pierre walked towards James as James lifted his legs, resting them on Pierre's shoulders. He positioned himself, before James as a began to enter. 

Justin: "No lube?"

Also Justin: " **lube is for the w e a k .** "

" _AHHH ~ my butthole!!_"

"I never knew that I'd feel that good," James began to tear up, " _Ah.. — AHH -_ "

James was blushing so hard at this point, like his face was like tomato red; Pierre was going through the same cycle as he pushed through into James, it was a long way: he got a big dick, and I know this because I've been zooming into his crotch in pictures of him. The one difference between the two is that James was the louder one, moaning. Probably because he's inexperienced of having sexual affairs because he just got elected and hasn't met with any of the other leaders yet.

"Jesus, James, you're going to let the whole building know that your having _sex_ in your office!"

"You mean in _our_ office."

"Shut up, or I'll use hand sanitizer as lube because you asked for lube,"

*middle of moaning* "wHAT —?!"

"That's it!" Pierre immediately pulls out of James as James left out a very uncomfortable, painful moan. Out of his very small beard, in a pinch of the beard hair, the 49 year old magically pulled out a small hand sanitizer bottle. He flipped open the cap and squeezed a generous amount, zapping into the younger man's butthole, which felt like a cool gel. Before James could even feel the burn, Pierre had again, this time roughly entered in.

They both felt the burn of the hand sanitizer but kept going with it as The bearded man thrusted into is former version. It burned but Justin's a sadomasochist — both of the Justins are sadomasochists. 

It was all fun and hand sanitizer sex until the office door finally popped down to the floor. 

In the door way, there was this creature with two matte cylindrical heads, stacked on top of each other, very big, and both had " :>" face on it.  
The bottom one was a bright siren red and it accompanied 8 spider like legs, 4 on each side — whereas the top head was a bright neon yellow — it looked like the one in control of the creature. Overall, it was **_dEsPaCiTo sPiDeR_**.

**" _REEEEEEEEEEE_ I'VE COME FOR YOUR VIRGINITY** ," it screeched 

Both the Trudeaus, "We're not even virgins —"

**_ To Be Continued.. _ **

Note: I'm going make like a shit ton of references that you boomers that are reading this won't understand (I consider anyone over like 35 a boomer). 

So please search up "Roblox despacito spider" because I'm pretty sure that you guys don't have a picture of what it looks like and the energy vibing from it.


	3. The awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I don't know what to write here.. all I know is that if you don't like offensive stuff or blood, please don't read this fic

I quickly appeared into the plain of existence of my ghostly pale blue figure and flew to the the spider at the door way.

_"CAT?!"_ both of the Trudeaus gasped at me as they witnessed me bite on to the spider's yellow head.

_" **hmMph!!** "_ I took a bite on to the big spider's head.

_" **aAaaAHHHHaHAHH!!!!**"_ the spider cried out in pain as I started sucking the blood out of its head. 

It's " :> " face quickly turned into a " D: ".

Hopefully, this is probably you guys.

I remember when drinking its blood, the blood was actually what makes the spider's head yellow — I remember the yellow fluid tasting similar to like a cheap yellow flavoured lollipop that you'd use to get at the doctor's as a child, or like when you have a freezy and it melts into just coloured sugar water — that's exactly how its blood tastes like but it was more leaning to the lollipop flavour. Anyways, I was drinking the blood of the spider's head, and I realised as slurped, the head was more like a glass and the yellow stuff was just a liquid.. like its head was like clear, like it was as if I was draining the liquid as I sucked the blood from my teeth.

As I was done fully drinking all the blood from the spider's head, it was clear and translucent and it dropped to the floor. Only the red head of the spider with its legs had remained and it head was like " X_X ".

"You can continue on with what you were doing," said to the Trudeaus as I broke a chuck of the red head of the spider. It was a very.. glutenous structure, like a gummy, a thick, hard, chunky, would-stick-to-your-teeth kind of gummy. I turned to look at the two francophone Trudeaus as I _**hmMph**_ into the big nugget of the red glutenous material. They were both speaking in French, which I now don't know of. I used to take French when I was 14, but then in sophomore year, my father directed my studies in a different path... Sigh, I wish I knew what they were saying as they were absentmindedly looking at me. 

I don't know if I should say "the worst part," because I was pretty sure they were in missonary or some shit — I don't know, James was like lying and facing Pierre at first.. now he's still the bottom, but he's like bent over, leaning on the office desk. Pierre stood behind him.. with whatever he was doing.. uhh, this is awkward.. they both were like naked..

"C — con.. — continue one with what you were doing," I proceed to walk towards the office wall and bashed myself into it. 

**OW!!**

I cried out after I launched myself on to the eggshell white painted wall.

"Are you okay?" the older man of the two asked.

"No.. I'm fine," I rudely replied to him with disgust. I walked over to the office window and pulled the slider open. 

_I'm a ghost right? Why couldn't I walk through walls?_

I held the window slider above me and viewed the snowy winterly evening of December, the white snow as a lavendery purple in the shadows. Wind gusted from the open window of course. Papers around the office flied off the desk because of the sudden gust of wind and both the Trudeaus were panicking. I didn't care tho, I lose my homework too, it's not a big deal.

I turned to the two Trudeaus as they finally where out of position and tried catching the said papers. I could care less, so I turned back to the window, only to see something.. something of a bright turmeric yellow.. heading towards me. It felt like it was accelerating because it was approaching by the second.,. wait that can't be correct? I mean acceleration is metres/metres/seconds ??? I took junior and senior level physics as a junior and I don't remember, but I do remember angular velocity and projectile motion (like the physics kind). Anyways I have the feeling that I'm dealing with 2-dimensional kinematics, which is the study of motion and —

_**I believe an elastic collision occurred because I'm smacked down on the floor and the thing that collided was half a metre apart.**_ " _Oh no_ ," the thing stood up and it now appeared to be a woman. She turn to the two men in the room, now very pale and almost frozen in action and had their eyes, fearfully lock at the woman, watching every action she is doing. "It's too late.." she said in a very hopeless tone. I now recognize her as Justin's wife, Sophie, but I don't know which one.

She then walked over to the older husband, opening her mouth not it kiss him, "You really do love yourself, do you?" she yelled at him with now tears in her eyes. I could tell that she's really heartbroken that he's now cheating on her with his younger self. Oh poor Sophie, you can't blame her, she's got a hot husband. Okay so that confirms that she's the 2020 Sophie. She cried for a few minutes as the younger Trudeau sneakily got off the desk and got his pants back on. She pulled out a white smooth handkerchief out of the pocket of her turmeric dress to wipe the tears off of her water line, before it falls on to he cheeks as she cried. she looked at me and the disastrous position I was in after she flew into me and she looked back at the bearded man scanning him quickly. "GO PUT YOU'RE CLOTHES ON! THERE'S A KID HERE!" she scolded him. A nervous shiver was sent down his spine as he rushed to get his clothes back on too.

I got sat up, itching my head, "But you were the one who smashed into me in the window..." The woman now walked towards me and asked me several questions if I was okay or not, and questions such like that. All of that which I've answered that I'm fine because I feel fine.

As the older Justin buttoned his dress shirt, fixed his collar and tie, he said, "So you really are alive after all.." and the other Justin replied, "No, she wasn't alive at first, she was very pale and translucent — it was after she had eaten part of that spider.. she had somehow turned human?" I was then shocked to hear the statements from two of the Justins as I held my hands in front of my eyes and flipped them over a few times.

_Yes, it is true. I am no longer blue._ The light peanut brown skin has now coated my arms. _I'm human._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate you guys reading this fic,  
> Please comment on it! I'd like comments a lot :)


	4. Shut up I don't know what to give it a title

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do y'all remember when Emmanuel Macron had covid?
> 
> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS EXTREMELY OFFENSIVE AND NSFW.  
> DON'T READ IT PLEASE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I showed this chapter to a few friends and they said that it is offensive 😃
> 
> Please comment on whatever the fuck you think about this chapter please — I don't care if you dislike it please comment.

“AHHHHH!!!” I plopped the two Prime Ministers into the Frenchman’s room. Macron was just about to sound the alarm that he was supposed to be alone during quarantine and not even with his saggy wife. Her womb is probably dry as fuck and probably has cobwebs at this point. I don’t blame her, Macron is mad ugly and now has bald spots. 

He’s also VERY OLD. 

I don’t understand why some of y’all simp for him.

“So,” Emmanuel suggestively lay on his couch as he put his laptop aside. Dare I say he’s posing like them _French girls_ but he’s in a black turtleneck and grey sweatpants (yes, it is the grey sweatpants season). “What brings you here?” he asks in a flirtatious manner, “No, actually.. what brings the **two** of you here?”

“Who the fuck is he?” James blurted out rudely

Emmanuel shocked like that famous painting with the man being like :o

“You don’t remember me?” Emmanuel asked the younger Trudeau in a heartbreaking tone. He was extremely saddened.

“No Manu, he just hasn’t met you yet.” Pierre replies to Emmanuel, confusing him even more.

“What do you mean I haven’t met him?” Emmanuel jumped out of his couch, leaving his open laptop abandoned, “Justin.. do you remember me? From Taormina in 2017?” approaching James in disbelief, cupping his face with two hands on each side of James’ clean shaven face. They made eye contact, am eye contact familiar to Emmanuel when he first had met with Justin.. 

James: “I.. I am from 2015 in fact,” 

Emmanuel: (°ロ°)☝

"Yea, there's this girl.. I'm not sure where she is right now but there's this girl that brought this Justin _*gestures to Pierre*_ from your timeline into mine, then she brought us back into your timeline again,”

“Oh by the way, just to identify between us, I am Pierre, and this is James.” Pierre responded to his boyfriend just to clarify everything.

But Emmanuel was too busy making out with James, forcing him on the floor as James struggled to get gasps of air. “Hey!” I turned the abandoned laptop to myself then presented it to the adult men. “Why are you on a furry Discord server?”

There was gay furry porn posted by **Frwenchie Wenchie Boi UwU**. 

“Emmanuel,” I spoke informally, “are you a furry?” I asked as I scrolled upward to realise that he’s in the # general chat of the server — _“WAIT A MINUTE, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ??!!  WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU POST?!!!!!” _ And that is when I learned about the graphic internal organs, specifically the nervous system of a **_[redacted]_**.

“Give me that,” Pierre out of parental distraught took the laptop out of my arms to take a look at what the heck Emmanuel posted. Emmanuel was about to bolt at Pierre to prevent him from looking into the chat but the eyes of the older Justin studied him for a few minutes. Macron froze in place realizing what he was about to do was immoral and dishonest to his dear lover that he has always been honest to. He surrendered and let Pierre continue on.

With an unpleasant and cold stare at the Frenchman, eyeing him (or more as _judging_ him), read out a message sent by the mods in the chat: **_Frwenchie Wenchie Boi UwU, I am going to have to perm ban you for posting NSFW content in the # general chat._**

Pierre took a moment and stared into the distance, away from Emmanuel to take a moment to contemplate. He then sighed before asking, “Manu, why do you do this? Do you purposely break the rules for attention or.. are you really into this?” 

“No, no, no.. don’t get it wrong..” Emmanuel tried defending himself.. then realizing his sense of morale he has when he just realised he exposed gore to a child.

He shamefully retrieved the laptop, then quickly closed it and started numming on it. 

“Emmanuel.. are you okay?” Justin asked and then unexpectedly, Macron swallowed the entire laptop. 

“Emmanuel, it was only the mutilation of a **_[redacted]_** , it’s ...” Trudeau now started blankly, thinking about wtf he just witnessed.

“It’s all over now because I ate the laptop,” Emmanuel brushed over Pierre’s concern. 

James and I were honestly just looking at the shitshow that was going on.

"That's it.." Emmanuel clinging to Pierre's waist he lowered down, nuzzling his crotch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh so you made it. 
> 
> Please comment, I appreciate comments more because I want to know you guys' reaction 
> 
> ** Comment anything please!!!  **


	5. Frwench fwies🥖 and kwetchwup  (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all if you're not like an adult, please get the fuck out of here. I knew I should have rated this fic as explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: GROSS CONTENT

The French kept nuzzling the older man’s crotch with his nose, rubbing the fabric of the suit pant and the PM’s boxers against the **bulge**. It felt uncomfortable to the Canadian as he stared down below at the younger man. As for the younger Canadian (James), he was lucky in his position. He could still remember the _burning_ hand sanitizer in the ** fiery** _depths_ of his butthole.

He couldn’t imagine how it’d felt for his Richard, considering the fact that Pierre did go in him.

He guessed he was better off with a sanitized ass than a urinary tract infection.

Also seeing French directing his attention to the older man is a huge relief for the younger Trudeau. The greeting which the French gave was not the best introduction to him in the slightest — he is a complete stranger to the French — just because he’s “Justin”, that didn’t mean that he has always been the French’s boyfriend.

He then let out a sigh of relief.

“Emmanuel, get off me!” Justin order Emmanuel, picking him out by grabbing the cloth if his black turtleneck sweater, presenting his strength as he lifted the younger man from the ground on his knees, until they met on eye level.

“We should be social distancing considering the fact that there is a pandemic,” spoke the older Trudeau.

“Oh! The virus!” proclaimed, the younger Trudeau, “you were telling me about it during the travels in the holographic wormholes.. uhh wait a minute you’re from that era, why did you _fuck **me**_ then?”

Emmanuel let his head down, cutting his eye contact with Pierre. “So you cheated on me then?” he commented enviously.

“Emma- Manu — I,” and just as when he said “I”, Emmanuel cut through his sentence, 

“it’s okay,”

“Huh?” 

“Our relationship was never truthful to begin with; we’re assholes to our wives for cheating on each them, I don’t expect for you to _not_ cheat on me too.” Emmanuel concluded to Justin, lifting his head up again at vision level and giving the Canadian a faint smile.

_ Something about it felt unnatural. _

“What about us? We are still a thing too —”

“So as Sophie.. and so as Brigette” losing his smile, Emmanuel darted into the bearded man’s eyes with that unnerving look he always has. 

_When ever I look at pictures of Macron (especially when he’s like not smiling and gives off this cold stare) when being photographed.. he looks sinister, and not in a good way. I can get over the fact that be is ugly and has the most mediocre hideous face I’ve seen.. I’ve always wondered, what was really going on behind that cold mask._

_I know that I am horrible in hiding my own emotions at times well because.. I know myself. But for some people it is different. They are very good at masking their emotions from the public, just with their face and body language._

_Humans are really strange creatures. They can only express their emotions through their voice, their face, and their body language. They even use other mediums, like art, to communicate their emotions as well; but aren’t emotions just certain hormones that are excreted from the endocrine organs into the blood flow go to cells and trigger a chain reaction in those cells — attaching themselves to hormone receptors to trigger a chain reaction — why am I talking about the endocrine system and how hormones are secreted into the blood stream ?_

_I talking as if I was writing an essay and I was trying to prove a point in half of this mess. My only point is that I think Macron is evil, or.. I don’t know._

_This isn’t English class so I’m not here to prove a point but I’ll say that humans are less expressive than other animals because some humans can hide their emotions well._

_Therefore, I conclude this persuasive essay, that I’ll give French President Emmanuel Macron an extra pair of ears and a tail._

✨｡･ﾟ✨･｡✧･･ﾟ･✨｡✧~  
[me, reappearing and casting a spell on EM]

“Oh! I forgot to tell you something.” said Macron when conversing with Pierre.

“What is it?” Pierre asked as he dangled Macron a few millimetres higher.

“I have Covid —” _And a jolting wave of magical fairy pink electricity ran through the President’s body for 5 seconds, before the Prime Minister dropped him to the ground out of fear._

Macron was now flopping around on the carpet floor as if he were a fish on the deck of a major sea liner that catches fish. When the jolting stopped, the French was almost motionless on the floor as smoke emitted from his body like a salmon on a grill.

“Emmanuel..” both of the Justins walked over to check on the President. While scanning his body ti find any signs of life, there was something that stood out from all normal. 

There was a tail. Yes, a fucking tail, they realise and its not a buttplug coming from his buttcrack. 

He. Was. Wagging. It. 

Another abnormality was the horns? No, they’re too soft to be horns and too furry. Could they be ears? But how? Emmanuel already has ears on the sides of his head. Only and both the “ears” and the tail were coated in the same colour of fur as Emmanuel’s hair colour. As the two men began to study the body, they recognise the tailing being more similar to a fox’s tail but only a bit longer. And the ears were a bit larger than actual cat ears.

He stopped wagging. 

This was a bad sign and the Justins immediately panicked if the French was dead.

Pierre carefully lifted up Macron’s left cat ear and James — 

“MeAAaAHhH!!!!” Emmanuel screamed as if he were a cat.

“James! What the fuck did you do?!” Pierre yelled.

“I ... I only pulled his tail,”

“Tail?” Emmanuel asked as he stood up, as well as his ears pointing up. 

“Where is she..” Pierre maned out of exhaustion, obviously putting the blame on me for making Emmanuel a catboy. The French President walked over to the nearest full body mirror in his room.  
He took a moment to observed his new features, and turned around to take a look at his tail. It’s true, he has a new pair of ears and a tail. He felt his tongue brush up against something sharp in his mouth. 

He opened his mouth and was shocked to see that he now bears canine teeth.. actually, they look to be fangs.

Well it took a moment for me to poof because I’m now a physical form. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that spider. “I’m over here!” I poofed to appear in front if the men. 

“Congratulations, you’re now a furry,” and I poofed out. 

“WAIT! WAIT! I NOT EVEN A FULL FURRY! YOU JUST TURNED ME INTO A CATBOY!” he rushed to my initial position but I was now nowhere to be seen again. He sighed as his cat ears went down but quickly then jumped on to Pierre and started nuzzling him again, this time on his neck.  
“Hey.. Emmanuel.. uh,” he slightly blushed because James was starting at them. He quietly lifted Emmanuel like a bride and carried him to his bed. He gently placed the clingy-ass French on his bed and proceeded to leave. Emmanuel held back.

“Manu..” Justin turned his head around and saw Emmanuel tugging on to the sleeve of Justin’s suit. 

“You’re leaving?” Emmanuel asked

“Emmanuel, you have the virus and you have to rest here..” he put a hand on Emmanuel’s forehead to check his temperature. “You’re warm.. we should call your doctors and inform that you have been exposed to me and James,”

“No, I can’t!” Emmanuel shrieked and started to cry. “I can’t! I can’t let them know you are in herw with me!” 

“Emmanuel, you are putting both me, James and you in risk of the virus and your conditions can worsen; you have to get someone.” 

“No, no, no! I can’t!” Emmanuel cried.  
“I can’t..” Emmanuel then spoke calmly, averting his eyes away from the Prime Minister.

“Emmanuel,” said the Prime Minister, speaking out of thought, then pushed himself onto Macron.

His lips quickly met with his French counterpart, then the tongues clashed into eachother, feeling like wet and slimey slugs; the teeth clashed in, Justin feeling the sharpness of the fangs of his partner. _They weren’t even making out, they were violently frenching._

Hormones rushed through the brain making both the men feel at a euphoric state in minds and their bodies. Pierre lifted himself up, breaking apart from Emmanuel to take in air. Both men inhaling and exhaling air from that long and violent make out. 

Only the sounds of panting from Justin, Emmanuel, ...and from the other Justin was heard from the room.

Pierre turned his head to face the only other man in the room, James. He then spoke, “You’re going ti ruin your pants, James,”

“I know,” James replied, squeezing his thighs together.

“It looks painful, isn’t it?” Pierre asked again.

James could only nod, his face was blushing as red as red as a tomato. 

“Come over here,” Pierre offered but James looked like he was about to collapse. The older Canadian then got off the bed and walked over to the younger Canadian, unzipping James’ pants. 

After that, he carefully removed the rest of James' clothes. Emmanuel got a bit pouty so he started to remove his clothes too, pulling off his sweater and and sweatpants. Pierre taking note of that and following suit. 

Now, there are only three erect penises in the room.. — far too many penises in one room.

James sat on the edge of the bed, allowing Justin to come on top of him. Their lips meet, Pierre biting James’ bottom lip with care. He could remember how naive a pure he used to be when he first got elected.. it was so _soft_.

Out of envy and hunger, Emmanuel joined in with Pierre, nibbling on to James’ ear, making him moan muffled sounds as Pierre continued to make out with him. 

Pierre took a moment and broke apart from James. He panted as he watched Macron completely top over Justin’s 2015 self. And watched that tail playfully sway.

For Macron, it felt similar for him, the 2015 version felt just like the 2017 version, just probably more pure then when they first had met. He then stopped and took a breath from kissing James too.  
Macron then lay beside of James, lying on his side facing him, as he strolled a finger along the 44 year old’s skin.

“So, what do you want to do?” asked Pierre, crossing his arms as he watched his lover explore the Canadian’s younger self. 

He lowered down his ears forward, “I want you to fuck me,” Emmanuel replied harshly as he jammed a finger into James. The younger Prime Minister had his eyes rolled all the way up, his body jolting every time he curls his finger. He was very sensitive.. almost too sensitive. 

“As I fuck him.” Emmanuel finally completed the sentence, jamming another finger in and making a scissor formation with the two fingers as he moved them back-and-forth in a fast pace. He enjoyed the view of the visual expressions made by the younger Prime Minister. Goofy and way more emotional than his bearded counter part.

“Mmmphhh... mmmh _hhHH AHHHHHHH — !!_ ” He started yelling as the Frenchman finally pushed his dick in the younger Canadian. 

He panted for a few minutes, only to have his tail become straight as Pierre’s dick unexpectedly entered him.

“Hhhhmphh!!” Emmanuel tried muffling his moan as Justin moved in him. 

He too, began to move in the Justin under him, as the Justin over him got to a higher pace. 

_They were a fucking sandwich. **A literal fucking sandwich.**_

Each of the men were like panting as if they were an anime girl in a hentai lol. Emmanuel, James, and Pierre now reached their ahegeo stages — filling the ones at the bottom with cum in their intestines.. prolly up until their stomachs.

Both Pierre and Emmanuel collapsed on top of eachother, pressuring James.

Pierre realizing that this will not be a good idea for James (since he’s the bottom), moved aside on the bed, with only Emmanuel being on top of James.

The French slowly removed his dick out of James. He put a hand on James’ face, caressing him, before looking down to see that the younger Prime Minister is still hard.

Pierre closed his eyes just to relax his body from all of that. He then let out a big sigh.

This was his mistake. With the blink of an eye, James was no where to be seen. 

Pierre quickly sat up on the bed. He saw Emmanuel had his knees to his chest while sitting in bed. This scared him as he thought that James is too emotional and would have probably ran away. “Emmanuel, you know where James might have gone?”

To which Emmanuel replied shortly, in a cold tone, “he’s gone to find my laptop,”

“But didn’t you eat your laptop?!”

“I know.”

**_[Skip to James]_ **

“AAaaaAAAhhHHHH!!!!!” The young Prime Minister screamed as be fell through the French’s esophagus. He knew that he was going to be dead when he reaches the stomach — he knew that — especially because of the hydrochloric acid in there. 

As a big ‘splash’ occurred once he reached the stomach. It was dark but he felt a very pungent smell. For a moment he thought “ _This is how it’ll end. Killed by the man that I’m supposed to have an affair with, my future lover.” Justin just stood there, contemplating on life decisions until he felt a familiar ‘thud’. Something immediately sparked in his mind that it felt familiar. No, it probably wasn’t his but the smooth surface feel to it, like a hard plastic. Could it be?_

_He wandered in the direction from where the thud came from, as he can merely remember. He knew that he was taking a chance as he travelled through the viscous liquid the stomach. The object could have taken any path of flow in the stomach acid, and he might have been heading farther away from the initial object which he had had contact with._

_But he was lucky because there was a second ‘thud’, this time in front of him. As he grabbed on to the object, he recognises that it is a laptop and it must be the laptop that Emmanuel had swallowed earlier.. the only thing is that it is attached to something.. it didn’t feel like food at all but —_

_**_[Back to Pierre and Emmanuel]_ ** _

_“James!”  
...  
“James!”  
...  
“James, wake up!”_

_And he did, finding Pierre right beside of him, over him; and Emmanuel vomiting on the carpet floor as James layed covered in puke and clinging on to the laptop.. which clinged on to a dress, a short red sequin dress._


End file.
